Diary of a Fairy Stepsister
by living in dreamland
Summary: The little princess isn't so nice, and her stepsister isn't wicked.
1. A Humble Beginning

I don't often cry, but I was crying that midsummer morning when the monsters came to town.

They may have been very nice, for all I know. I'm sure they didn't look like that meant any harm. But they frightened us all the same, coming in their fancy carriages, going from house to house, asking how many children lived there and if they were in need of money.

From time to time, an orphan with no better options would volunteer to go with them, and from time to time one would come back with them, looking happier and healthier. But as a rule, no one wanted to give them their children. The last time they came, we barred the door and lay still beneath the window, hardly daring to breathe until they moved along.

But we were poor. We were poor even before Papa had drunk away what little money we had and gotten himself killed, and it had been a very bad year, so when a lady came knocking on our door looking for a little girl to help her, Mama let her in and I let myself out.

I listened for a little while. The lady said she was getting old (I saw her gray hair) and needed some help around the house, just for a little while, a month at most, and she would see to my education. I didn't hear any more after that because I ran because I knew what Mama would say. She had always wanted to give me a proper education, even for only a month's time. It had broken her heart when I could no longer stay in school because she needed too much help about the house and in the garden and with the sewing. And I knew it would break her heart to see me unhappy so I washed my face and tried to smile, and when the lady asked me if I would go with her, I said I would.

The lady, who introduced herself simply as Holle, assured us that I would have everything I needed at her house, but Mama helped me pack a small bag for the trip, with an apple and an extra pair of socks and a few coins I knew she couldn't spare. Neither of us spoke much. After a few words and a last embrace, Holle helped me into the carriage and we set off.

For the first few miles, I looked out the window and watched the fields and woods rush past, but soon I found myself drifting off, and only awoke when we arrived at our destination. The house was not grand, sitting beside a small barn in a wide field with only a handful of scattered trees and not even the hint of a road. The windows were darkened, and inside, all the rooms were gaslit.

"Well," Holle began, "the first thing to be done is see you properly bathed and dressed decently, and then we can have our supper."

I had expected to have a great deal of work, but it seemed that she was sincere in her promise to educate me. Each day was devoted to a particular subject. The first day, I reviewed spelling, the second day, grammar, and the third, penmanship. Then there were two days on the Bible, one on world history, one on English history, one on recent history, then geography, mathematics, science, art, and literature, and then at the end of two weeks, she taught me to set the table and serve tea properly. I already knew how to sew a little, but there was a day for that and knitting and spinning wool. Then there were two days for the piano and two for the violin, which I thought had only the slightest success, and then Holle said I ought to learn a little of other languages.

"No one will expect you to speak anything fluently," she explained, "but you ought to know a few words and phrases, at least, and the basics of grammar."

So there was a day for French and a day for German, then Italian, Russian, and Spanish, and even Latin, Greek, and Hebrew.

The days felt neither long nor short, which I thought was strange, for there were many books, and a great deal of reading and repeating and copying to be done, but somehow there was always enough time to finish each lesson, and I was never too tired to stay up a little after supper and tea and read a good book by the fire. Still, at the end of the lessons, I was very anxious to know when I would return home, for Holle had given no indication that our time together was coming to an end, though the month was nearly up.

Or so I thought.


	2. The Gift

On what I thought should have been our last evening together, Holle and I sat together by the fire reading. She seemed quite content, though I could hardly keep still. It seemed like ages before she spoke.

"I suppose, my dear, you'll be wanting to go home soon?"

I hardly knew what to answer, not wishing to seem ungrateful, but desperately missing my mother and anxious to return to her, sometimes imagining her coming home after a long day to a cold, empty house, sometimes fearing lest any misfortune should fall upon her in my absence. These feelings had been growing stronger each day, and as I was then hardly more than a child, being only thirteen, when Holle suddenly put her arm around me, I could hardly help bursting into tears.

After a few minutes, she stood, and taking my hand, she said with a strange smile, "I think it is time that I show you something."

She led me to the front door of the house and bid me open it. As I did, I saw to my shock that the sun was shining, though I had been sure it was nine o'clock at the earliest. I turned to look at Holle but found she was no longer at my side.

"Come out into the sun, my dear," she called, suddenly appearing in the field.

I came, speechless and breathless with wonder. The world was still and silent before me. There was neither wind nor frost, but the tall grass bent and stayed as if frozen in place. Far above, a single bird hovered unmoving, with wings outstretched.

"What do you think?" Holle asked, suddenly by my side again, and laughed at my thoroughly bewildered expression.

"What is this?"

"This is why I brought you here. This is a _moment_."

The last word was spoken in a tone of breathless exhilaration, and as I looked at her, I saw that, while not exactly young, she did not look half so old as she had before.

"Who are you?" I asked, quite forgetting my manners.

She laughed lightly. "You might call me a fairy godmother, which would make you a fairy godmother in training, though that really is a fanciful way of looking at it. I am simply an ordinary woman, who was once an ordinary girl, who was given an extraordinary gift, which I would now like to share with you.

"Simply put," she continued, "I have the ability to stop time. We are now in a single moment, a time without time, I like to call it. Or if you imagine normal time as a straight line, you might say that in this moment, _our_ timeline is running perpendicularly. Do you understand?"

I wasn't sure that I did, but I nodded anyway.

"Well then," Holle continued, "the rules are simple enough. In this time without time, we do not age, we can get by with only a little food and sleep, and, though we might live indefinitely in a single moment, because time must inevitably move forward, we cannot stay forever.

"It is possible to stop time completely so everything is frozen in the moment, or selectively so some people or things remain unaffected. I have pulled you into the moment now, but you saw that I also pushed you out, when I slipped past you out the door. You'll find that a very useful trick at times. Conversely, in this state it is also possible to essentially speed up time, so water might boil or plants might grow apparently instantaneously.

"I don't know exactly how it all works," she admitted, "but if you are a good girl, kind and generous and selfless, like a true fairy godmother ought to be, you will find that things work the way you want more easily. But if you abuse this gift, beware lest it be taken away at a most inconvenient time."

We stood in silence a little while as I considered her words. Finally, I asked, "What day is it?"

"The very day you left, a little past three. The first hour or so after we left your home passed normally, but since then we've only spent a few minutes here and there."

Though I still missed my mother, I felt somewhat relieved at this, knowing that she had not yet greatly missed me.

"What would you do if you could go home now?" Holle asked, as if she understood a little of what I was thinking.

"Clean the house," I answered quickly. The moment the words left my mouth, I felt foolish, but Holle smiled encouragingly and waited for me to continue. I thought a moment.

"If I really could do anything, and I suppose with enough time and the right tools I almost might, I'd like to fix our roof. It always leaks a great deal when it rains. Then I would sweep the chimney, and dust and sweep and scrub the house from top to bottom, and do the dishes and laundry, and wash the windows and air the rooms."

"Very practical. We can't count on miracles to save us from everyday drudgery, but it certainly makes it easier, when we are not constantly racing against the clock. What else?"

"I'd sweep the lean-to and sharpen the saw and ax and cut enough firewood to last weeks, then weed and water the garden, and then I'd find Mama and help her with her work. And I'd visit all the houses in town, and perhaps the other towns as well, and help everyone, so no one would guess who had done it."

"And then?"

"Then...perhaps I would come back here and finish the lessons."

So that is precisely what we did.

With Holle's help, some borrowed tools, and all the time in the world, the roof was entirely replaced, the house cleaned, the dishes and laundry done, the lean-to filled, and the garden weeded, watered, harvested, and allowed to grow some more. Then we moved on to the other houses in the neighborhood, the church, and the schoolhouse, and then the next town over, and the one beyond that. It was a great deal easier said than done, yet still easier than I would have supposed, and I was extraordinarily pleased with the results.

When the month was finally up, I returned home early on the appointed day with a great deal of packages and parcels. Mama was so overjoyed to see me that she hardly noticed them at first, but when she did, she quite reminded me of a child at Christmas. Holle has sent a chest full of tea and coffee, herbs and spices, dried meat and cheese, honey, jam, and bread, yarn and fabrics and thread, soap and candles, and books and paper and ink.

After that, Mama didn't have to work so hard, her health and spirits improved greatly, and I went back to school. Word of our good fortune travelled quickly throughout the neighborhood, and our position in society rose significantly, so that many people who had quite shunned us before now greeted us most cordially in town.

Though Holle had told me she would return on occasion to check in on us, it was a year before I saw her again.


	3. Gossip

I wish I could say that Mama and I lived happily ever after and nothing ever troubled us again, but that is only true in heaven and fairy tales, and then only at the very end, and usually after a great deal of misery.

On the whole, things were very nice. Certainly I never lacked time to read or study or help Mama with her work, and never had to hurry from one thing to the next. Between the improvements to our home and Holle's gifts, we felt ourselves to be living in luxury, and with time and industry, our situation only continued to improve. Thus we gained more notice from our more respectable neighbors, who now praised my drawing and embroidery and offered me further music lessons. When I returned to school, the teacher, Miss Davis, was very kind, and most of the older girls were friendly enough, and for the first time, I found myself invited to a number of little parties and picnics and sewing circles.

Still, I had never found it easy to make friends, and it was no different now. I had formerly resigned myself to always being overlooked and alone, and rather liked to imagine myself as being utterly invisible, observing the joys and sorrows of the world while remaining comfortably detached from it. But now with so much attention, I found myself growing increasingly self-conscious.

There were always a few, some idle, gossiping, envious souls, who never seemed to forget, or let me forget, that I was only a _charity_ _case_ , after all, and though I tried to ignore them, I could hardly help feeling it was true, questioning the genuineness of every kindness and favor I was shown, and wondering whether anyone really liked me, or only tolerated me out of pity. If I did well in class, I was sure to hear whispers that I was showing off or snide remarks about how I must have cheated, and if I made mistakes on purpose, they laughed even more. One day, the word _mercenary_ came up in a lesson, and as Miss Davis explained it for the younger children, I saw a few glance in my direction, and Myra Jones whispered to Jane Peters that _her_ mother would never let her go off with a complete stranger for a whole month, but _some_ _people_ would do anything to get ahead in the world.

No doubt Mama had her share of unkind looks and cutting remarks as well, but she only smiled and said they must be jealous. I could hardly see why they would be. We were certainly comfortable, but still far from rich. Though Mama no longer had to clean houses, we still took in washing and sewing, and while she may have spoken highly of my newfound _accomplishments_ , as she called them, I am sure as I never put myself forward, people might have excused it as only a little example of maternal partiality. Furthermore, I knew for a fact that as Holle and I worked our way through the town, I had not neglected anyone, but taken great care to do as I would be done by to all, and would have done more if I had thought it would make any difference. Yet envy is bitter and hardly rational, and there are some who cannot stand to see even the slightest success in anyone but themselves.

I said as much in a letter to Holle, and a few days later received an encouraging note in return, in which she first cautioned me against trying to do too much.

 _Take care that your blessing doesn't become a curse to those you are trying to help,_ she wrote _. For when people are long idle, they tend to grow lazy, and then they are very apt to become ungrateful._

I could almost see her smile sadly as she continued, _We can't save the world, dear. Believe me, I've tried. We can only do the work that we see before us. What's more, you can't please everyone, and you were not given this gift so you could toil your life away trying to do the impossible._

She urged me to not to be weary in well doing, and repeated her promise to come visit soon.

I turned fourteen the thirtieth of April, and the following day, there was a grand May Day celebration the next town over, which ended with a dance. One of our neighbors had secured us an invitation and offered us the use of his carriage, so we arrived in style, and though we were dressed rather simply compared to most of the other guests and hardly knew anyone, we nevertheless had a fine time, taking in the lovely music and decorations, including thousands of flowers and hundreds of lanterns, and not a little of the food, quiches and cakes and such.

The biggest surprise of the evening came when a gentleman asked Mama to dance. He was tall, neither old nor young, with dark hair and a mustache, and very elegantly dressed in a sort of uniform. I thought at first that he must have been confused and mistaken her for someone else, for he was plainly a very illustrious person, yet our host assured me that he was well aware of our situation and highly impressed by our success. It was all very exciting, but I little thought then what would come of it.

 **Not sure if this is an improvement, and it** **might take a while to complete since I'm also working on another story,** **but I am planning on expanding what I had, including adding a storyline I had previously cut.**


	4. The Engagement

**Sorry it's been a while, and can't promise much improvement, but I will try to update with a bit more regularity, at least within two or three weeks.**

* * *

I awoke late the next morning and found Mama in the kitchen with a note in her hand, humming a tune from the dance as she looked out the window in a manner quite unlike her. She started a little when I came in and tried to slip the note into her pocket as she bid me good morning, before changing her mind and setting it on the table. I hardly needed to look to guess who it was from.

I have never been much of a romantic, and in that moment I could hardly believe Mama was one either, yet as we quietly sat down to breakfast, I imagined how the story might unfold, the tale of a dashing, mysterious gentleman who fell in love with a poor, humble widow, and how he would lavish her with gifts and take her away to some grand country estate, and how the neighbors would talk. I tried to tell myself it was nonsense, and that I had not been given the gift of foresight, and yet as we sat there in silence, it did not seem so foolish after all, and I began to feel much like I had a year before when I first stepped into Holle's carriage, as though a great change was coming.

At last Mama spoke. The man, she said, was a captain by the name of Ralph Crewe, and he had a daughter near my age, who was now attending school in London, and he had just sent the note inviting us to tea later. I hardly knew what to think, or feel, or say. Certainly I should have been happy, for this did seem like the sort of thing you might read about in novels, but now that it was really happening, I rather wished it was happening to someone else, and that we might go on living peacefully by ourselves. But I could hardly say so, when I could plainly see that Mama was so hopeful, and so I did my best to join to mirror her enthusiasm as I asked what I should wear.

That visit was the first of many, and it was, on the whole, very pleasant. The Captain was most courteous, the inn where he was staying was very nice, and there were a number of cakes and confections, which he urged us to help ourselves to. As he and Mama talked, I wondered what his daughter was like, and how she liked London, and how she could bear to be away from her only parent for so long. But then I supposed that she might be quite used to it, and having a rich father must be quite different than having a poor mother, and in any case, I was glad Mama would not wish for me to go away again, however nice schools in London might be. Still I wondered what it might be like to have a sister, and whether we could be friends.

In the following weeks, I made little use of my gift. Despite Holle's encouragement, I grew tired, as I had already visited every house in the neighborhood more than once and found my work there largely unappreciated and sometimes entirely undone in a matter of days. Besides, I had finished my own chores several times over, and read all the good books in the library and gone swimming and walked here and there until I felt as though I knew every inch of the town and most of the surrounding woods. And after all, I had a feeling that the real adventure still lay ahead, and as I wavered between impatience and apprehension, I saw that more time would only serve to delay the inevitable.

At last there came a day when the Captain said he was taking a train to London to see his daughter and invited Mama to come. That evening, she came home with a ring on her hand.

I should have been happy. I hope I seemed so, at least, and if Mama noticed anything amiss, she did not say anything. Still, I have never liked change, and now a great change was certainly upon us. Doubtless it would be for the best, but as I contemplated a new home in a new neighborhood, with a new father and a new sister, I found already feeling homesick. I suppose it is well I had no friends there, or I should have certainly burst into tears.

Instead, I slipped out of the room on the pretense of fetching something, and pausing time, sat down at my desk to write a letter. I wrote Holle to tell her of all that had happened and ask if, by any chance, she might know any more than I did of the Captain and his daughter and their estate, which was said to be quite large. I hardly knew what she would say, but hoped that she might have a bit of wisdom to offer, and dropping the letter at the post office, expected to have a note in return within a week or two. Thus I was surprised when a few days later, I was walking through a field and the world once more came to a standstill, and Holle herself appeared before me.

"I suppose you know why I've come," she said.

"The Captain?" I asked. "Do you know—Is he—"

I hardly knew what to expect.

Holle sighed deeply, looked as though she were about to speak, then sighed again.

"I know something about him," she said. "You need not be afraid. He's not what they call a _very_ bad man. But he is a fool."

She motioned for me to walk with her, and we turned back to the town as she continued her tale.

"His first wife, by all accounts, was a good woman, an excellent housekeeper, a wise steward, and beloved by all the people. He never appreciated her. After she died, he hired a nurse for their daughter, and when the nurse quit, he sent her to school, where she has been for years now. He visits on occasion and showers her with all sorts of gifts, but neither really knows or cares much about the other. You said your mother has met her already. I've seen her myself, and I daresay your mother was not particularly impressed. But she would marry the fool and work herself to death if it meant she could give you half the nice things that silly girl has."

"I am sure you have given us more than enough," I began, not wishing her to think we were ungrateful. Yet even as I spoke, I felt uncertain. I knew Mama was not truly mercenary, but after all, didn't we have enough? Holle only smiled patiently and patted my arm before continuing.

"He also hired a housekeeper, a steward, and workers to tend to his flocks and fields, and oversee the estate when he returned to India, but he had a very hard time since no one liked him, because he paid so little and expected so much for rent while entirely neglecting his responsibilities to his tenants, so of course they all cheated him and he let them go and has had no profit from his land for the past few years."

We walked in silence for some time. At last I asked, "Do you know where he lives, then?"

"I do," came the reply, "and I think you ought to see it for yourself."

So it was that before long we were in Holle's carriage, on our way to see what would soon be my future home.


	5. Preparations

When we finally arrived at the Captain's famed estate, I found it in a sorry state of neglect far worse than anything I had imagined from Holle's description. It did look very grand when we first saw it from the main road, as the house stood some distance away upon a hill overlooking the town, and nearby a large barn and some trees. Yet as we came nearer, it quickly became apparent that no one had lived there for some time, as the road grew worse and worse, the grass grew taller, the trees grew wilder, the buildings appeared to be covered with moss, and the roof of the barn appeared to be sagging in spots.

We left the carriage by the main road and walked slowly up the drive, always seeing more evidence of neglect. Coming to the house, we found the hedges badly overgrown, the windows dirty, and the door unlocked, though Holle said she doubted anyone from the town had been inside.

"There's nothing a thief would want here," she said, and it did not take long to see that she spoke the truth. Inside, there was a great deal of dirt and dust, little furniture, and no food. We walked through all the rooms in silence before proceeding to the long-empty barn, which appeared to be caked in years of dirt.

For some time, we stood without speaking, looking at the work before us. At last Holle took a deep breath and said, "Well, I suppose we had better get started."

Then she turned and walked briskly back toward the carriage, while I hurried to keep up.

"It's a good thing you like cleaning," she said. "That will be the first step."

Coming to the carriage, she took out two mops, two brooms, and a large box, which she opened to reveal a number of cleaning supplies.

Thus we set to work, thoroughly dusting, sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing the house from top to bottom twice over to start. What little furniture there was was moved and cleaned, laundry done and hung on a line Holle put up, the chimneys and hearths swept, rooms aired, and windows washed.

Sometimes we sang as we worked, and sometimes Holle would speak of what was happening in the world, of new discoveries and innovations, and sometimes we discussed faith and philosophy and books we had read, and other times she would quiz me about history or languages to keep my mind occupied.

I was deeply thankful for the distraction, as otherwise I certainly would have flown into a panic, wondering exactly what sort of man the Captain was and what his true intentions were. I had heard him say a great deal about his home in the country, and how Mama and I would be very happy there, and there was no question this was it. He had also mentioned once or twice that his daughter would go back to school after the wedding, and very likely he would also have to return to his post in a short time. Was it possible that he truly meant to bring us here, and leave us alone in such a place, in such a state?

I supposed if he were not an utter villain, he must be, as Holle had said, a very great fool, and a terribly cheap one at that. Certainly he needed to hire a housekeeper and a steward and a host of servants to restore and manage such an estate properly, but doubtless that would have cost him a small fortune. But perhaps, foolish as he was, he supposed that a good wife could manage just as well, and for a fraction of the cost. And when he heard of a poor, hardworking widow with a clever, industrious daughter, whose circumstances had lately improved a great degree, as if by magic, perhaps he thought he had found precisely what he needed.

I said as much to Holle, and she agreed that it did seem a most likely possibility.

Once the inside of the house looked presentable, we moved on to the outside, trimming the hedges and scrubbing away at all the moss, and to barn, which was dusted, swept, and scrubbed, top to bottom, inside and out, three times over, and the attached woodshed and grain shed were likewise cleaned. Tools and equipment were cleaned, repaired, and sharpened, wood cut, split, dried, and stacked, and after Holle went into town to borrow some necessary supplies, sections of the barn roof were replaced and patched as needed.

Next the road leading to the house was fixed, and when we had made some progress cutting the grass, I discovered some long-hidden beehives with a great quantity of honey and wax. We found, moreover, what used to be a garden, which we cleared, plowed, planted, watered, weeded, and harvested twice over, before moving on to the fields being the house, Holle all the while talking of the delicate balance of nature, and how critical it was that I remembered to bring the birds and the bees and the worms into the moment at just the right time, as well as the seeds and soil and water, or else it would be impossible for anything to produce fruit. Thus we had grain threshed and winnowed and stored in great sacks in the shed, hay bound and stacked in the barn, and fruits, vegetables, and herbs preserved and brought down to the cellar and into the pantry.

Then Holle looked and spied some wild sheep in a nearby field, from which we obtained a great deal of wool, some of which was washed, carded, and spun into yarn and thread, and some of which was washed and pressed into large felt blankets. I also planted a nice little enclosed flower garden with a bench like I read about in one of Holle's books, then went over the house again to see that all was as it should be, before washing up and taking a nice swim in a nearby pond, followed by a long rest.

After this, we went into the town, with four and twenty houses, many with their own fields and barns, a church, a schoolhouse, and a handful of shops, all in varying states of disarray and disrepair, though none which seemed quite as bad as the Captain's house. It seemed that even the poorest in the town would have been ashamed to let their homes go in such a way. We saw many of them going about their work, most looking very plain, but neat and respectable, and as Holle told me what she knew of them, I thought I should not mind having such neighbors. Yet there was still much to do, and the difference from beginning to end was marked enough to warrant another long rest and celebration.

From there we moved to the next town down the road, a little larger, and the next, a little smaller, before turning back and visiting the scattered houses along the road and a few little fishing villages down the other road. It is hardly worth describing all the time and effort it took and how more than once I came very close to giving up, feeling as though the work would never be done, but I knew if I did, I would not care to come back to finish the job, and at last it was with a great deal of satisfaction that I viewed our completed work. I could not guess what the Captain and his daughter might think, but I did hope Mama would be pleased.


End file.
